God Dime It All

It all seemed so much easier from the outside looking in. Isn't it always though? I could see every mistake, every misunderstanding and sloppy miscommunication. But now that I'm in here I'm just as lost. Constantly stuck in my head. Which, let me tell you, is a very suffocating place to be. Full of deep forests hiding creatures of self doubt and self sabotage. And long winding paths paved with angst and contempt, leading to a gritty beach on my own personal ocean of lies. Sounds dramatic, but the world I've cultivated in my head is as old as I am. It's hard to change how you think when this is how you have done it your whole life.

I need to stop forgetting I bring my own unique kind of crazy to the party. So nothing that looks perfect on the outside actually is once I let my beasts get a hold of it.

Sorry... that made complete sense in my head.

Dime Scene Investigation

Detective Dime Duwowski... Laying down on the job.

Well Dime seems to be back to his chipper self. Although a vet visit may still be in his future. But he'll take it in stride. He always does. Something I should try to learn from.
The littlest things throw me completely out of sync. I have yet to master the art of letting anything roll off my back - big or small. I'm defensive and stubborn and highly volatile when change occurs. I'm unstable at best in times of stress yet I seem to thrive off it. When my life lulls to a mellow dull my mind races at break-neck speed. Like my brain just wont allow the calm to overcome me. I begin to create the chaos I claim to hate.

So which is it? Do I need drama or do I despise it? Is stress good for me or am I just following what is normal to me? Why can't I just accept placidity instead of always firing up the propeller that I call my subconscious to tear to shreds the delicate surface tension?

I wish I could be Dime for a day.

Dime Is Running Out

Yeah, Dime's a little under the weather. Makes my maternal instincts kick in. No one likes to see the one they love suffering. Especially when that one is not able to take proper care of themselves on their own. But I have to admit, seeing him like this makes me just admire him more. He still looks at me like he would move mountains just to have me scratch above his tail, or learn to fly if it just meant I would let him sprawl out in front of the heater. Those simple pleasures that make up his day. Nothing taints those things. He won't let that happen. Those are his sacred things.

I don't know what I have that I hold above all else. The thing I leave unmarked by bad attitudes and misjudgment. Do I even have something? I feel like I should. Like it is unhealthy to be lacking there.

Leave it to Dime to point out one more flaw in this crumbling facade.